


[roll over]

by cm (mumblemutter)



Series: Tumblr Things [4]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Hunters, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Reposted from <a href="http://lokiagentofhotness.tumblr.com/post/87889621177/">Tumblr</a>.)</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Reposted from [Tumblr](http://lokiagentofhotness.tumblr.com/post/87889621177/).)

The bar's the same, in every city in every country that Loki has been in, even if the people and language might differ. Loki always has the same drink, always sits at the same seat at the bar counter, always over-tips the severe looking bartender who refuses to smile.

It's one of those places where the not so human hang out with the hunters and the mundanes, and the official policy is that misbehavior is not looked upon kindly by the management. This is true about eighty percent of the time.

But this one's different. This one has - him.

And yeah, Loki can tell he's not human, just from the way he walks. A hulking bear of a man with surprising grace, and long golden hair. Too tanned and vibrant to be a vampire, too. He could be a faerie, is beautiful enough, but Loki suspects not. They're usually not so - male, his mind supplies unhelpfully. A were-beast of some sort, Loki concludes, as he takes a seat at a corner booth.

The bartender catches Loki staring as she leans over to refill Loki's glass, and says, "Thor."

"What?" Loki says, distracted.

"Him. Thor, that's his name - yeah, everyone asks."

Who is he what is he can I have him gimme - Loki clamps his mouth shut, says, "Thanks," instead.

"You're a hunter," the bartender continues, and Loki hadn't been aware they were still having a conversation. He lifts a brow: what of it? The girl shakes her head, wanders off as Loki bristles. It's not as if he's killed a were-creature in - well it's been at least a week, and the thing deserved it.

Loki stews for a while, nursing his drink, but then decides to hell with it, you only live once - or a few times, depending on what kind of a monster you are. He turns to slide out of his seat, but finds his face pressed against a giant, immovable object.

"Sorry," a voice says from above him, and he sounds exactly like Loki imagined he would. Loki pulls back and stands, slowly, and their bodies meet as he does so. Thor doesn't move away, just gives the tiniest, most smug of smiles. Loki would be irritated, if he weren't so turned on. They're almost the same height, and so their faces are inches apart as well. Loki's nostrils flare: definitely a werebeast of some sort, but with some unusual scent underneath, oddly - herbal, almost.

"Hello," Loki says, and Thor's smile widens.

+

Werewolf, it turns out.

Thor lets him know this as they're driving back to his place, and slides his gaze over as if expecting a barrage of questions. Which of course Loki has. Werewolves are rare, mostly keep to themselves, mostly royalty. They certainly don't drive hybrids and live in a cabin the woods, although the more Loki wanders around the house, the less it looks like a cabin and more like a massive feat of engineering to make it look simple, and yet -

"Are those solar panels," Loki asks, craning his neck upwards.

"Yeah," Thor says, and hands him a bottle of beer. "The house is as green as it gets - solar-powered, recyclable waste, I'll give you a tour if you want."

"Perhaps later." Thor's too far away, has been standing a safe distance from Loki since they entered, a faintly wary cast on his face. Right. "If you think I'm here to kill you, you probably shouldn't have invited me over in the first place."

"What can I say, I like to live dangerously."

Loki wonders if he could, briefly: Thor's huge, mostly muscle, and werewolves are rare due to selective breeding, not because hunters have managed to wipe them out. It would be close, certainly. Not that he has any plans to kill Thor, not tonight at least. "You either trust me or you don't," he snaps.

Thor shrugs. After a long moment, he walks over slowly, takes the bottle from Loki's hand.

Loki's only ever slept with one werecreature before.

Not that hunters and the things they hunt don't often fuck one another: the combined animosity, fear and sheer curiousness meant that it was bound to happen. But given Loki's lack of interest plus his general disdain of almost all living things, he's spent most of his free nights polishing his weapons or tracking his next prey.

He certainly never spent it on his knees in a werewolf's bedroom, breathing in through his nose as he chokes on cock. "Yeah," Thor says, and his fingers on the back of Loki's head are gentle, almost. "Fuck, yeah."

They stumble to the bed at some point, and yeah Loki's expecting to be fucked, to be stretched wide and to have this beast of a man bear down on him with the full force of his inhuman intensity. But Thor seems content to kiss him, slow and lazy as they twine around one another, his hands soft as they roam Loki's skin. Loki loses patience soon enough, flips Thor over onto his back. It comes over him then, the same drive that leads him to hunt, to stalk. He thrusts shallowly between Thor's massive thighs, says, "God, I want to -"

"Yes, please." There's a dazed look on his face as he waves a hand at the nightstand. "There's lube in the drawer. Please, please."

Fucking Thor is a bit like being swallowed whole, Loki finds, as he's driving into him. Thor has one thigh spread open, the other one pressed against Loki's waist, and he finds himself breathing harshly, trembling with pleasure and exertion. He puts his hand on Thor's throat, squeezes and says, "Do it, come on - just a little."

Thor's eyes darken, and he'd been slack before, allowing Loki to fuck him with his mouth open and his cheeks flushed, barely coherent, but now his body tenses, and the clenching around Loki's cock almost drives him over the edge. He stops for a moment, to catch his breath and to watch Thor partially shift, teeth elongating and claws pushing out of his nails.

"Fuck," Loki says, when all Thor does is cross his arms above his head, present his neck. "Fuck."

+

He stumbles down in the morning, vaguely ashamed that he'd actually fallen asleep and stayed the entire night, finds Thor in the kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans. Thor points at a counter seat with a spatula, slides an omelette onto a plate when Loki sits.

"What do you want to drink? I have juice, soy milk, I can make you a smoothie if you'd like, I just picked fresh fruit from the garden." Loki just gapes. "There's also soy bacon if you'd like, but most people don't like it."

"Don't you have - uh, regular bacon?"

"Vegetarian," Thor says, turning to the fridge and opening it. When he bends down to retrieve something, Loki finds himself staring at the strong curve of his bare back, watching the muscles ripple as he moves.

"Maybe just some juice," he says, faint. Thor squeezes him fresh oranges, makes a smoothie for himself. They settle down to eat, and Loki can't help but sneak glances at Thor.

"What," Thor says, at one point. "You thinking of taking me on now?" 

Loki shakes his head swiftly. 

Thor just grins. "Good night," he says.

"Yeah," Loki replies. "It was."


	2. Chapter 2

Thor, as it turns out, has a family. There's to be a dinner, apparently. 

Loki gapes at Thor for a while, but Thor just shrugs, "No, you don't have to. Just, they're coming in from out of town, I said I'd introduce you."

"Right, the royal - what are they exactly?"

"Just Mom and Dad," Thor says, and looks vaguely sheepish.

_Royalty._

He says yes, for no reason at all that he can discern. Curiosity, perhaps. The oldest of the werewolf families, the most revered. A hunter would never get remotely close, not in a million lifetimes.

Frigga seems nice enough, envelopes Thor in a hug before giving Loki a silent, appraising look. Odin just shakes his head, and his disappointment is staggering. "Dad," Thor begins.

"Enough," Odin says, and holds up his hand. "Let's just get this over with - I don't suppose you've seen fit to give us real food to eat, son."

Loki has to hide a smile; he has that at least in common with Thor's father. Tofu isn't meat, never will be. 

Dinner is - somewhat awkward.

Odin, while they're trying to swallow some vaguely food-resembling appetizer, asks Loki bluntly, "So how many of our kind have you killed?"

"Only the ones that deserved killing," Loki says, mild, and takes a sip of his wine.

"Can we not," Thor interrupts, and Frigga sighs.

It goes downhill from there. 

Thor says, once his parents have left with a general air of displeasure, "Possibly this was too soon." 

"I'm not actually sure there will ever be a right time for a hunter to meet the werewolf parents of the guy he's dati - fucking." 

Thor leans into the fridge and pulls two bottles of beer out, hands him one. "They wanted to meet you, so they met you. They'll get used to it. Or not." 

"I'm thinking not. But you can tell them we're not -" Loki just blinks instead of finishing his sentence.

"You can say the D word you know," Thor says, popping the tab off the beer with a flick of his finger.

He's so strong. Loki has to struggle to remember that, what with his tofu and gardening and how he repairs watches for fun. People send him their watches from miles away, different countries even, and he fixes them for a nominal fee, head bent over a long, wooden workstation in the basement, his big bear hands somehow graceful while handling gentle, intricate instruments of time. 

It took Loki a month to realize several things. One was that Thor Odinson is the second son of Odin Borson, king of all werecreatures. Two was that even though he's the second son, he's meant to inherit the throne, largely due to how his biological mother is the rare, almost mythical embodiment of Earth itself, and so therefore Thor's not just a werewolf prince, but a werewolf prince who's basically the child of the planet.

It's no wonder Thor's parents hate Loki. They have to be worried, after all.

And Loki would be lying if it hadn't crossed some small sliver of his mind, what a coup it would be, to kill a prince. Except it's hardly something to brag about, slitting a man's throat while he's sleeping and vulnerable. Not that Loki's above using his body to get to a mark, he's done it before, and will probably do it again. He's hardly a paragon of integrity and fair play. 

His fingers clench reflectively around the beer bottle, and Thor cocks his head to the side, grins at him. "I've rendered you speechless, I see. I'll make a note of that." 

"Shut up," Loki says, and puts the bottle down, carefully, onto the countertop. "Is that why you had me meet your parents? We're dat- dating?" He's not afraid of a word, it doesn't make it real, it's not the damned Candyman. 

"Well, mostly it's because they wouldn't stop calling me, and I was hoping that the dinner might alleviate some of their worries." 

"I'm sure they'll stop now, after they've met my charming self." 

Thor leans forward, plants a delicate kiss on the side of Loki's mouth. "You were very polite. I was impressed." 

"Mmm," Loki says, immediately distracted as usual by how good he smells. Loki wants to do nothing but bury his face in Thor's throat, lick him and bite him and fuck him senseless, until they're both exhausted and can do nothing more but flop bonelessly on the bed, sticky with sweat and come. And oh yeah, that's the other reason why he's not yet tried to kill Thor. He's just so fucking _good_.

"Hey, I have an idea," Loki says, bright. 

"You always have an idea, and it somehow always involves the bedroom. I'll start to think you're just using me for my body." 

"Well, it is a rather spectacular body." He drags on Thor's belt, slips a hand into his pants. 

"Flattery." 

"Works?" Thor just chuckles, and kisses him again, deeper this time.

+

Thor disappears sometimes, in the middle of the night. Loki's always vaguely aware that he leaves, wakes up more when he returns to slip into the bed, wrap an arm around Loki's waist. His scent is always of the earth then, of danger. It is the only time Loki's senses heighten, when if he were alone and it wasn't Thor he would reach for a weapon, prepare himself.

"Take me with you next time," Loki says, once, as Thor nuzzles at him, his cock hard against Loki's back. He's never seen Thor shift, not fully.

"You wanna watch me run? It's boring - I just howl at the moon a lot." 

"Do you hunt?" 

"Not usually - my body's not used to meat anymore." 

"You realize that this is completely unnatural." 

"I just blame my mother," Thor says. He nuzzles again at Loki's neck. "You awake?" 

"You're like a dog," Loki says. 

"That's three," Thor replies. 

Loki turns over, wraps an arm around Thor's waist. "Good dog, good boy." 

"Oh, now you've done it." Thor flips him over, pins him down. 

"You wanna fuck me, big boy? Or roll over for me?" 

Thor actually growls, lunges down to kiss him until he's hard, breathless. He slides himself down on Loki's cock slowly, as Loki tries not to cant his hips up, squeezes him with powerful thighs, rocks on top of him, his hips rolling.

Thor drops his head back, moans, and Loki feels as if he's being devoured, or buried alive.

"Tomorrow," Thor says, as Loki grabs him by the back of the neck, pulls him down for a kiss. "You can follow me tomorrow."

+

Thor says, before they walk into the woods, "Maybe you want to leave the weapons behind." 

"I feel naked without them." Thor waves down at himself. "You have teeth. Oh, fine." He pulls out his gun, his knives, the various odds and ends he's found useful over time, lays them out neatly on a table.

Loki's seen bits of Thor as a wolf, knows he's a softly burnished gold, like his hair. He doesn't expect how huge he is, though. As rare as werewolves are, Loki's never really seen one up close. He reaches up to Loki's shoulder, and his eyes are a brilliant shade of blue. Loki backs away instinctively as the wolf takes a few steps foward, reaches for a weapon that's not there. He hits the rough bark of a tree, exhales as he feels hot breath against his skin. Then the wolf whines a little, and it's just Thor. Just Thor, and Loki reaches out a hand, runs a tentative hand through soft fur. Thor whines again, bows his massive head.

Thor doesn't run that night, instead he just walks next to Loki, with Loki's hand of the nape of his neck.

It's too dark for Loki to see much of anything, so he relies mostly on Thor. Near dawn, Thor shifts back near an outcropping of rock, and they sit to watch the sun come up. Loki takes off his coat, slips it over Thor's shoulders, and Thor rests his head against Loki's arm. 

"So all this land is yours?" 

"Mostly, yeah," Thor says sleepily. "Been in the family for generations." 

"Must be nice, to be a prince," Loki says, only slightly bitter. Thor doesn't respond, so Loki says instead, "Why watches?" 

"It relaxes me." Thor pauses. "Why hunting?" 

"It relaxes me."

"Killing people relaxes you?" Thor's voice is still sleepy, still light. 

"Not people, things. Things that kill people." Thor doesn't reply, and Loki finds himself bristling with defensiveness. "I'm good at what I do." It's the only thing he's eveer been good at, this. Other people can fix watches, Loki can kill. 

Thor lifts his head, and Loki glares at him, narrows his eyes. But all Thor says is, "All right." 

Loki brushes a lock of hair out of his eyes, says, "We should be getting back." 

"Maybe we could just sit here for a while. Sun's coming up." 

"All right," Loki says. "Let's do that."


End file.
